


but i can see.

by carminnat



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Tony Stark Defense Squad, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-03
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-09-06 04:10:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8734399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carminnat/pseuds/carminnat
Summary: It's a common assumption that their external reads on Tony do not take any personal tolls on him. You can wholeheartedly disagree.





	

He buries himself in his work. He dismisses every worry you might bring up, tilting his head up after what feels like forever, assuring you that _he’s fine; don’t worry about it._

But you see it when he assumes you’re not looking. The tired, long blink, the hand being dragged roughly over his chin. The curve of his spine when he cranes over his work and buries his face in his hands. The way he looks at Rhodey when the latter isn’t looking. The ghosts swimming in his eyes, but he tries to remain unfazed. 

You fear for what it’s like when Tony is truly alone in a room.

But you are in awe for how he’s held up. He’s been travelling from place to place, building hospitals, offering personal condolences after the events in the last two years. He tells you in a bout of fast-talk that it probably won’t cut it, but he’s willing to do whatever he can to make amends with those he’d unwillingly hurt— _even if that means a little bond stitched with thread._

You tell him with his hands in yours that what he’s doing is _bringing back hope._

He smiles at you. 

You are surprised at the vast difference between this smile and the many forced, ingenuine ones he’d given you in these past few months since the Avengers’ fallout. Since Pepper left. Since _New York._

He has never asked you why you’ve stuck by him for so long, but you can see it in the way he looks at you, in the way he squeezes your hands in his, and especially now—in the way he ever-so subtly tells you _Thanks, you know. For everything._

You offer him another smile and inch closer to him. You lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his hand in return.

When you pull back, you expect him to release your interlocked fingers. But he doesn’t. He instead looks down, long lashes shielding the inevitably conflicted gleam in his brown eyes. He holds your hands firmly in his, and pursing his lips, meets your stare once again.

No words are needed. There’s a desperation in how he looks at you now. The words are on the tip of his tongue, but he cannot get them out.

_Don’t turn your back on me too._

_Don’t leave._

_Stay. Please._

So you don’t respond with words either. But you do give him an assuring nod, just before pulling him into a tight embrace. 

He exhales, finally allowing himself the relief of restraint when he cries softly into your skin.


End file.
